


Let There Be Spaces

by evening_spirit



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Background Character Death, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypervigilance, Nothing Will Tear Them Apart in this fic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Read the warnings, The Gifted Dragon AU, The core four, There will be Warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evening_spirit/pseuds/evening_spirit
Summary: In a war between humans and dragons, victory of mankind was overwhelming. A few years after nearly exterminating the race of giant winged (and feathered) lizards, humans are slowly taking over the lands that had been dragonkind hunting grounds since before the written history.Some humans though, are willing to betray their own species. Clarice, Lorna, Marcos and John live in a remote house between the dragon cave and the new human settlement, and try to make ends meet.Untill...





	Let There Be Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> A/N1: Contrary to what it may seem, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. This may look like a story with a plot and solid worldbuilding, but honestly? I don't have a plan. Please, forgive me that. I hope next chapters will come faster, but can make no promises. Comments are food for authors so feed me please. :)
> 
> A/N2: Great thanks to **EmmaArthur** for handholding. I wouldn't have done it without you. :)
> 
> WARNING 1: John has PTSD and anxiety. I get it that he may come off OOC because of that and I'm not sorry. It's deliberate.
> 
> WARNING 2: Graphic descriptions of violence toward the end of the chapter.
> 
> WARNING 3: **Background character death** , that's consistent with the in-show death. If you want to know upfront which character it is, go to the note at the end of the chapter. I'd rather you didn't, but I know Readers' comfort needs take precedence before plot.
> 
> Last but not least... ENJOY! :)

* * *

 

It was night when Clarice came out of the cave. She pulled her jacket closer against the cold, adjusted her backpack and hurried toward the lone golden glint in the distance. The house. She didn't make it past the acacia shrubs that grew about half-way in between, when she heard footsteps rapidly closing in on her. For a split second her mind conjured up a frightening vision of an assailant, but she recognized the rhythm and the weightiness of the person behind her.

She turned to face him head-on.

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed, albeit half jokingly. She didn't want him to feel bad for waiting out for her.

A familiar tall and broad silhouette neared her – head bowed, left hand scratching the back of his neck. If there was light, she'd see a sheepish smile on his face.

"It's not that I was afraid for you," he tried.

"But you were afraid for me," Clarice cut him off. "John..." she started to rebuke him. Wanted to say she was safe; she was safe in the caves among their charges and out here, on the way to the house, even after dark. She wanted him to not worry about everything so much, but she had said that already. Many times. And she knew that he couldn't really help it, worry and fear and constant vigilance were ingrained into him by past experiences and, well, their situation didn't exactly warrant being totally careless. So, instead, she reached up on her tippy-toes, took his face in both her hands and kissed him on the lips. "I love you," she whispered.

"Love you too," he whispered back.

"Let's go get home. Lorna and Marcos are probably more worried than you by now." She squeezed in under his arm for both, nearness and warmth and together they strode toward the light.

* * *

Lorna was already putting the plates on the table.

"We've almost started the dinner without you," she gripped as they came in. She was never a patient one.

"But you waited." Clarice sing-songed and planted a quick kiss on Lorna's cheek, then giggled. Lorna waved her off with both hands like she was some annoying bug.

"Go away! Sit down."

"So, which is it?"

"Oh!"

Teasing and banter died down as they all turned their attention to hot bean casserole. Lorna eyed Clarice every now and again from across the table, suspicious of the good mood, but she asked nothing, of course. That was the rule – no dragon stuff until everyone was done eating. How many times had either one or all of them gone to bed hungry, because worries and concerns ruined their appetite?

Living in the vicinity of a dragon cave was tough. Dangerous. Dragons were predators, much larger than, and at least as intelligent as humans. Trying to coexist with them was commonly regarded as an equivalent of a "death wish", not to mention a betrayal of own species. In addition to living here, the foursome were tasked with another job of utter importance: to make sure that the pack of six – no, eight as of a month ago – specimens of a race that was humanity’s mortal enemy, would not interact with humans. And vice-versa, that the humans, who had the brightest idea to settle in a town called Greenville, merely five miles down the road, would not come anywhere near the dragons.

It had all been easier a generation ago, when humans all lived in the lowlands along the sea shores and riverbanks, and dragons ruled in their mountains. Who the hell needed shortcuts, anyway? The world had changed so much in the last twenty-or-so years.

Clarice hardly remembered the time before the War. She hardly understood how she survived it, all alone and a minor, only to later join in an effort to protect a pack of dragons. Except, when she'd found herself on this mountain slope, a year ago, she had been so tired of being lonely and helpless, she'd probably stay with anyone who'd show her a modicum of warmth.

She was lucky it had been Lorna and Marcos and John. Their warmth was genuine and over the last year it grew into true friendship and love. Despite different backgrounds and circumstances, they had a lot in common, similar worldview and hopes for the future and now they were truly in all of this together, for better or worse.

"Are we ready?" Marcos asked as John stood up to gather all the plates and take them to the sink.

They had finished their food and now they could talk. It was what they did most evenings, when they were all home. They compared notes about the pack, suggested ways to deal with problems that arose, often comforted one another and jointly complained of the lack of supplies, resources and money. Despite the latter being sent in a regular manner by a mysterious Mrs. Wheadon.

"Clarice?" Lorna turned to Clarice with intent look in her green eyes. "I take it you have good news this time?"

Clarice couldn't help but smile. "I found her," she confirmed what everyone already suspected. "I found Sage, she's back."

Marcos sighed with relief and Lorna cracked a smile. "At the Rugged Crack, like we thought?" Clarice nodded and Lorna slammed her hand against the table. "Damn! Why wasn't it my turn to go there?" She wasn't angry, not really. Same as the others, she was happy, perhaps the most of them all. Lorna may have been brash with people, but when it came to dragons, there was no one more dedicated. Besides, they each had their favorites, there was no denying this, and Sage was Lorna's. With her being gone for over a week, it had an impact on Lorna's mood. "How did she seem?"

Clarice pulled the strand of hair that covered the right side of her face. It was an old habit, one not necessary here, among those people. Like she wanted to hide that she didn't bring any more good news, but instead, with this small gesture, revealed just that. She pushed the hair back out of her face and shrugged.

"She is nervous." It was not exactly the best descriptor of Sage's behavior. Black wings flapping, long dark-gray neck bent at an angle that seemed uncomfortable. Head held high. Huffing, puffing and baring her teeth. "Agitated more like it. Angry even. She's still so hard for me to explain." Clarice threw up her hands. "She's so focused and her thoughts are really fast."

Dragon's didn't talk. They had no mouth or tongue with which to form words, but it was possible to communicate with them. Some people were receptive to their kind of emanations. Each dragon projected some sort of aura, quick shifting visions, emotions. One needed to be near a dragon to sense it, besides it took practice to understand the meaning and Clarice had been here the shortest out of all of them.

"From what I gathered she's uneasy, restless for some reason, but I couldn't decipher what it would be."

"She has the ability to see patterns invisible to others, determine causality and predict the outcome." Lorna bit the side of her lip, then she nodded, thoughtful. "I'll go see if I can find her and talk to her tomorrow. If something troubles her, we cannot ignore it."

It was a plan. Since Clarice had nothing more to add, Marcos asked John about his day.

John stood, hands braced against the back of his chair. He rarely sat during their meet-ups, usually paced up and down the room, thumbs hooked behind his belt, or gesturing when he spoke. Not today. He was so deep in thoughts, it took Marcos rephrasing his question, to break his reverie.

"Is the field operational?" Marcos raised his voice a notch.

"Yeah," John snapped to attention. "Yes, the field is on, all emitters are functioning without a glitch."

The emitters surrounded the cave at several-yard intervals and almost three mile radius to the south and east. They projected electromagnetic waves that caused dragons disorientation and were put in place to discourage them from venturing anywhere near humans. To the west and north, the mountains opened, inviting and ready for exploration for hundreds of miles, but to the east and south too many new human settlements had been raised and their numbers increased year after year. Humans had won the War and some of them apparently thought the borders between their realm and that of the dragons had been moved. They ignored the danger and needed to be protected.

It fell to the four of them to keep people from Greenville and a couple other small towns, from becoming accidental dragon prey. They inspected the emitters once a week and every now and again fixed some small breakdowns. Today everything seemed to be fine though.

"But..." Marcos dragged the syllable, because John still bore that frown between his eyebrows.

John took in a deep breath and pushed away from the chair. "I saw tracks." He phrased it almost like a question, not a statement. Shrugged and folded his arms on his chest, as if preparing himself for a confrontation.

Marcos raised his eyebrows in a silent, 'what tracks?'

John shrugged again. "I'm not sure. It looked like some big group passed through, near boulder field."

"Group of," Lorna asked, "like deer? Boars?"

"Or humans."

"Were there any boot tracks, anything that made you think so?"

"That's the point. Nothing at first glance and I didn't take a closer look, nor followed it in either direction. I was on my way back and went past it, certain it were animal tracks, but then I started thinking and now can't stop."

He leaned against the wall, wrapped his arms around himself tighter and bowed his head, so he wouldn't have to look at anyone. Clarice met Marcos's eyes, then Lorna's. She knew they were all thinking the very same thing right now – probably the same John thought too. Was there any real threat, or was it John's anxiety speaking?

"Listen," Marcos started slowly, carefully. "We can go back. Tomorrow, we'll get up early and go check it. If you want?"

"I should have gone back myself."

"Wouldn't it have been too dark by the time you returned?"

"Not if I turned back right when I started to have doubts." He pushed away from the wall and started pacing. "Then I would have been there by day. But I figured, it was just my mind playing tricks on me." He ran his hand through his hair, pulled, hard, then, self-conscious, wrapped it back around his middle.

"Maybe that's all there is?" Lorna reached out to him but John just passed her, didn't notice the gesture, so she paused, curled her fingers into a fist and held it to her chest.

John neared the wall, turned around and started walking back, still staring at his feet, avoiding their eyes.

"We'll go there." Marcos made a decision. "Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. You and I."

John shook his head. "Damn waste of time," he muttered.

"Maybe, maybe not. We're going and that's that." Perhaps the threat wasn't real, but it was real to John and Marcos wasn't going to ignore it.

Clarice was immensely grateful for Marcos to be able to resolve those situations in a manner as calm and authoritative as he did. She was also glad she hadn't pestered John about waiting out for her, what with him already spinning out and being irritated with himself for it.

"Now that that's decided," Marcos glanced at Lorna, who still appeared visibly upset and refrained from asking her to speak about her day. Instead he started. "I visited our pupils today and came out unscathed as you can all see." It was a joke. Dragons wouldn't harm friends. Clarice smiled and Lorna shook her head, pretending to be unamused. Then Marcos frowned. "However, I was surprised to not find Shatter in the entrance, welcoming me like he always does."

"Yeah!" Clarice raised her hand, like a schoolgirl. "I forgot to mention, he kind of took me to Sage, you know? I mean I was going there anyway, but he was peeking out on me, like he was making sure."

"Oh, so that explains it then; he was elsewhere."

"Maybe he's upset too?" Lorna muttered, then-- "Maybe they all are, maybe whatever spooked Sage, spooked him too?"

"Or maybe she's projecting?"

"Or that. John, maybe her uneasiness is affecting you, too?" Lorna turned to John, hopeful.

John made a small uncertain gesture. "I really can't tell the difference." He pursed his lips in a sad half-smile.

"Lorna, you'll talk to her tomorrow, maybe it will all become clearer." Lorna nodded and Marcos continued. "Fade was nowhere to be found, but he's Fade. His lair was a mess at least, so he obviously showed up at some point between yesterday and today. I tidied it up. A little. Dax and Pedro slept and Dreamer was out, up on the Bowl, singing."

"Yeah, I heard her too." Gentleness in John's voice, a stark contrast to his earlier tension, surprised Clarice. It shouldn't have; it was about Dreamer after all. Coppery and golden Dreamer was John's favorite and nobody questioned that. She had a calming presence, sweet and refreshing. John had once told Clarice that whenever he was around the big, beautiful creature, this constant sense of urgency he felt, this buzzing at the back of his head, faded away. Even looking at him now, just thinking about her, with a hint of a smile on his face, made Clarice's heart melt.

Marcos looked at John with a soft expression that probably mirrored Clarice's own. He didn't want to break the moment, so he let it last for a few more heartbeats, but he finally said, "That leaves us with Fenris."

Fenris was their newest addition. About a month ago a couple from Greenville brought an egg to them. It had happened in the middle of the night, in a grave secret. The two townsfolk were terrified of the betrayal they were committing, but the woman had admitted, she simply couldn't break it and kill the thing inside. It would be too cruel to kill an unborn. The man had only added that he'd sensed them, inside. After that he'd returned to his car and waited for his wife there. The woman hadn't known what he meant, she just asked them to take care of it and to, maybe, let her know how it was doing? She'd been scared and yet eager, curious despite herself.

It soon became clear what the man meant by "them". Dreamer and Fade warmed the egg and as it broke, not one, but two little dragons emerged. A male and a female, both color of ivory, with graphite streak down their belly. Nearly identical. Though small, the two were ferocious and strong and difficult to tame. After a few days they started breathing fire. It was said to be a characteristic trait of dragons and yet, none of the other six ever did that. The two were given a name of a mythological beast for now, instead of two names, because they were inseparable and more powerful when together, than apart.

"Fenris are growing," Marcos said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers in front of him. He was serious. "I'm not sure we can keep them here much longer." He glanced up at John, who finally appeared to be at least semi-present with them.

John nodded, "I'll reach out."

He was the one with contacts. Theirs wasn't the only dragon lair along the border and there was a Network connecting them all. Since John was the first one assigned here – by none else but a mysterious Mrs. Wheadon, whom neither Clarice nor Marcos had ever met, although Lorna claimed to have known her, or at least about her – it fell to John to maintain connections. He was under orders to keep his channels secret, even before his partners, what sometimes infuriated Clarice and other times seemed like the only logical approach to the matter.

"Speaking of Fenris--" Lorna leaned back in her chair, then doubled back. "Unless?--" she waved her hand at Marcos, but he shook his head; he had nothing more to add. Lorna started again. "Speaking of Fenris, I ran into the Struckers today," she announced and waited for their reactions.

Clarice sat straighter, ears perked up, John gave her a stare and Marcos rolled his eyes at Lorna's excessive use of drama.

Lorna had gone to Greenville today. Once in a couple of days they had to visit the town to do shopping and gauge sentiments among the people there – those were usually unfavorable. Neither of them was eager to go, least of all Lorna, although she had a knack at making it sound entertaining.

"Reed was shifty, as always," she continued, playing with her hair. "Caitlin though, she asked when they could come and visit the baby." She blew out her lips and pitched her voice an octave higher at the word 'baby'.

Clarice giggled, then covered her mouth and bowed her head, letting her hair hide the blush. It was a little silly though, to call two ferocious beasts – a baby.

"I hope you told them they couldn't," Marcos asked, mock-frightened.

"I told them the usual. That the baby is not born yet. But we'll have to change the tune, she's getting restless. Frankly, I think it's mostly Reed who keeps her off our backs, not our poor attempts at discouraging her."

"Okay, we'll figure out something. Anything else, or was it as mundane as always."

"It was mundane alright. All the usual suspects. Jace Turner, that jerk from the sheriff's office caught me as I was leaving, with a warning," she hit the elaborate tone again, "that people will not tolerate the dragon cave so near their town for much longer. I told him dragons were here first and drove off."

"You did what?" John's icy tone made Clarice jump. He leaned on the chair again, hovering over Lorna, his palms fisted so tight veins popped up.

It was unexpected.

Lorna eyed him up and down and repeated, "I drove off."

"What the hell, Lorna?" John shouted.

Clarice swallowed, Marcos straightened in his seat and Lorna blinked at John twice.

"Excuse me?"

"You didn't ask him what he meant?" John spread his arm in Lorna's direction and she flinched like he was about to hit her. John didn't notice, he raised his voice even louder. "Why didn't you ask him what he meant?"

Lorna stood up. Her chest was rising and falling in strained breaths, eyes burning, hands in fists, but she kept her voice level.

"Hey, why don't you calm down?"

"I am calm." John replied through clenched teeth

"No you're not!" Lorna cut in.

"I am calm enough!" he screamed over her, not calm at all. Clarice noticed his hands were shaking. "You don't know what they're planning. This could be it, you know? Sage, those tracks in the woods, now this?"

Lorna lost her cool. "They are always saying the same shit!" She took a step forward, invading John's personal space. "For years, they keep warning..."

Marcos stood up as well, reached for her arm. "Lorna, leave it be," he pleaded.

Clarice stood up too.

Lorna wriggled her hand from Marcos's grip. She didn't even look back at him, still focused entirely on John. "No, you know what? I won't have it!" She waved her finger at him. At least she didn't poke him in the chest. "I didn't want to listen to that idiot Turner, and I don't have to listen to you either, John! Why don't you lay off with the paranoia?"

John stepped back, his face hurt and contrite in equal measures.

"Hey. Hey! Both of you." Marcos stepped between them, both palms raised. He didn't touch John, but placed his hand gently on Lorna's shoulder. "Calm down. Lorna, please."

Lorna stepped down, but she was still upset. "Me? Why me?" she demanded. "He's the one who laid into me."

Marcos inclined his head with a vague grimace, "You know--"

"No. No I don't." Lorna shook her head, then turned to John again. "That's not the deal we've had, John. I understand that you have bad days and all. I know I do too. But we promised each other that no matter what, we would not act it out against each other. Against anyone in this room."

John didn't respond. He pursed his lips and turned away from her, ran his hand through his hair, pulled, let go and slammed his open palm against the wall.

"An apology would be nicer."

"Lorna..."

"Maybe later, then."

Lorna stalked away, out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She slammed the door to their bedroom.

Marcos looked at Clarice with a silent question. He wanted to go after Lorna and he needed to be sure she could handle John. Of course she could. Not like it was the first time; she had known what she was signing up for long before they became an item.

John was not dangerous when he got like this, she wasn't scared of him. He'd get upset, jittery, self-maiming when it got bad, but he'd never harm anyone else. Even yelling matches, like the one that just happened, were extremely rare. And he already regretted it.

Clarice came up to him. "John?" she announced her presence before placing her hand on his back, lightly at first, then, when he didn't shake it off, a little harder. Slowly he turned and pushed his back against the wall. Clarice's palm landed on his chest. "Do you need anything?" she asked. "Something to calm you down?" She meant the pill, but fast-working anxiety medications were their last resort. John shook his head. Then he raised it, eyes closed, and thumped it against the wall hard, once.

"I'll be alright," he said. His voice was hoarse.

They stood like this for a moment longer, her palm against his chest, feeling his breaths. In through the nose, a pause, slow long exhale like blowing a candle. In again and out again, just like he had trained. Calming breaths. Clarice waited for his cue and when he finally moved his arms and blinked, she offered,

"How about we wash the dishes?"

They didn't talk while tidying the kitchen. Then, as wordlessly, they went up to their room. It wasn't until she was in bed and he was getting ready to lie down, when John risked speaking up.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Clarice, and uttered, "Sorry."

"I'm not one you should apologize to," Clarice spoke before she thought better of it. He didn't need a reproach. Or maybe he did?

"I know," he said. "I'll do that first thing tomorrow."

"Yeah." Clarice nodded into her pillow, even though he couldn't see it. After a moment's deliberation she added. "She knows you will."

John didn't reply, only sighed. He should have lain down, but he still sat on the edge of the bed, his back curled, head hung low. Something kept him up.

"Hey," Clarice dared a whisper. "You want to talk about it?"

John straightened his spine, rolled his shoulders, then half-turned to her, pulled one foot under the thigh of the other and rested his hand next to his hip. He looked at Clarice. For the first time this evening really looked.

"About Lorna?" he asked. "Or that thing with the tracks?"

"Either." Clarice shrugged. It was up to him what he wanted to talk about, she was only here to help him process, if that was what he needed.

She reached out and touched his wrist, ran her fingers up and down his veins and tendons. He didn't seem to mind the contact. Didn't seem to want to say anything either, or lie down and just leave it all be. After a couple more heartbeats in silence, Clarice finally broke it.

"Did something happen?" she asked. "Did something cause all this?"

John grimaced. "It doesn't work like that. There's no cause or-- rhyme or reason to it, it's--" he wiped his face with his other hand – not the one Clarice clung to, "it's random."

"That's not true. There are things... triggers. John, there are and you know it. And you know you should try to avoid them."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Isn't being in the woods one of them?"

"What?" John shot her a surprised glance, then shook his head. "No. Not like this. It's more of an autumn thing. Rain. Wet leaves, uh--" he paused and closed his eyes, his breathing getting strained there, for a moment.

"John?" Clarice sat up immediately, ready to-- do what exactly, she wasn't sure.

But John shook his head once more.

"It's okay, I'm good. I got this." He opened his eyes, breathed in and out a couple more times, relaxed his muscles. "I'm good."

"I shouldn't have brought it up," Clarice berated herself. They shouldn't have talked at all. John didn't need any more stress today.

She scooted closer to him, reached out to put a strand of hair behind his ear, cupped his face. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss.

"It's okay, Clarice, I want to-- I need to be honest and I need you to know that I am honest about this."

"I know," Clarice tried to reassure him. "You don't have to--" but John ignored her.

"This time, it really was a random thought, that wouldn't go away, that's all. There was nothing that I could point my finger at and say, this is what got me spinning. It happens."

"I know." Clarice pulled at his hand, still holding hers. "Come, lay down." She backed the move with words and John finally followed her lead. He lay on his back and she snuggled up to him. "You think you'll be able to sleep tonight?" she asked, stroking his chest.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm pretty tired."

She rested her head on his shoulder, absently drew invisible circles on his pecs. She felt his every shift and twitch, listened to his breathing getting slower as he took longer breaths, but it was still jagged and uneven. He closed his eyes and she did too. She hoped that, if he actually fell asleep, he wouldn't have nightmares. She briefly wondered if not sleeping all night was better than waking up covered in sweat and panting, but didn't manage to come to any conclusion, before slumber overtook her.

* * *

When John started up in the middle of the night, it was not because of a nightmare. Clarice woke up at the very same moment.

There was a loud thunder and then shriek; the echoes still rolling through the mountains.

John was on his feet and pulling on pants in the same amount of time it took Clarice to sit up. He was out the door, when she put her feet on the cold floor.

"John, wait!" she tried, but it was pointless.

She heard voices in the corridor, Marcos and Lorna were awake too. John's boots tumbled down the stairs, door banged.

She was out in the corridor, semi-dressed and with her boots on – John had trained them all that boots were essential in case of an emergency – right on time to see Marcos's back as he ran down the stairs and followed John outside. Clarice and Lorna exchanged glances. You ready, you ready? They nodded at the same time and Clarice followed Lorna in the boys' footsteps.

It was bright outside. It was the middle of the night, but orange light coming from the mountains gave the surrounding trees and the house eerie shadows. Between the tree branches it looked like a volcano had erupted where the caves used to be.

But it was not a volcano.

Those were flames.

Dragons shrieked and howled. Clarice noticed the gray shadow of Pedro swooshing low and near, a two-legged human-sized and human-shaped toy writhing in his teeth. She heard gut-wrenching scream and the legs fell to the ground on one side of the monstrous jaw, while arms and head fell down the other. Pedro flapped his gigantic wings and he was ten feet up in the air, twenty feet, got smaller and smaller until he disappeared into the night sky over the mountains.

She heard more screaming, voices were human. She heard curses. It all came from above, from the ridge. She saw figures there, running, some of them aflame, one of them got near and jumped into the air. Straight down the steep precipice, to the dell where the entry to the cave was, and the path toward the house. Thirty feet down, at least. He screamed, then there was a thud and then silence.

Two shapes raised above the ridge, small and they seemed to hung above on two giant pillars of flame.

"Come on!" Lorna grabbed Clarice's hand and pulled her toward the caves.

Was it wise to go straight into the inferno?

John and Marcos were probably in there, so yes, it was the only way to go.

Something loomed in front of the entrance, some shape, the tinge of flames. Golden and orange. But it wasn't burning.

As Clarice ran closer, she recognized the coppery and golden feathers of the dragon. Dreamer. She lay in a messy heap, unmoving and when Clarice got near enough to tell apart her head from her legs and tail, she also saw two darker shapes close to the dragon's jaw. Two people. One clinging to the dragon and the other trying to pull him away.

She didn't have to see clearly to know which one was whom.

"Oh, god, John," she gasped.

"Come on," Lorna urged her again. "Let's help Marcos get him off her."

It was a nightmare.

* * *

t.b.c.

**Author's Note:**

> A dragon named Dreamer dies at the end of the first chapter.


End file.
